Playing With Fire
by Thorne Lockehart
Summary: Playing with fire tends to get you burned. Too bad Don Flack didn't get the memo. Don/OC Rating to change. FDNY/NYPD love story
1. Present Time: Attempts At Moving On

_**A/N: Yeah, so my muse wanted to do this story, just to kind of kick it around. This is a present chapter and I'll be going back and forth between present time and past to give you guys a taste. This isn't anything like I've ever done before, so please have patience with me! Short chapter to kind of give you guys a taste...  
**_

_**Disclaimer: If you see them on the show, I don't own them, obviously. I do, however, own Eva Santana and Kylie Morris. **_

_**Summary: Playing with fire tends to get you burned. Too bad Don Flack didn't get the memo. **_

* * *

_Don't look at me like I want you to_

_Then we'll brush hands like we accidentally always do_

_We'll stay too late, we'll laugh too hard, hug too long_

_And it ain't too far from waking up right where we've always been_

Joanna Smith — We Can't Be Friends

* * *

Don sat in the bar at Reilly's, sipping a Heineken every now and again. There were various women giving him 'the look' and one blonde to his left was doing her damnedest to get his attention. She had her ruby-red lips puckered around her straw, her blue eyes heavily lined with black eyeliner staring up at him from long eyelashes, heavily laden with mascara. On any other night, he would have murmured sweet nothings into the blonde's ear and suggested they take the soon-to-be-noise back to his place.

But he didn't want to take a woman back to his place. Or, rather, just any woman. Usually, he was right back on the rebound after a breakup, but he didn't want to go there just yet. He needed to know he was truly over _her _before he did that. That familiar laugh filled the air and he looked over his shoulder to see _her. _

Eva Santana, daughter of Alejandro Santana, the Captain of the FDNY and was KIA in 9/11. The pretty Hispanic woman turned heads when she walked into a room. Up until the other day, her smile lit up her face because of him. She was beautiful, to say the least. She wore a pair of black shorts, a black tank top, and a white blazer paired with a pair of sky-high stiletto heels that gave her a 'fuck-me' vibe.

Her dark brown eyes met his blues and her full pink lips turned up in a smile. Eva flipped her dark hair over her shoulder and turned her attention back to her companion, a pretty blonde with green-hazel eyes. Don recognized her as Kylie Morris, her best friend and gave a little wave. Kylie had been the one to cover up Eva's trysts with Don from both of their co-workers. Their dating the other would show badly on their respective careers.

"I wouldn't even think about tapping either of those women," Mickey commented with a white dish-rag in a pint glass. He was a stout man with wire-frame glasses and balding red hair. "They're both firefighters."

"Yeah, I know. I've worked with 'em a few times," Don responded, finishing off the last of his beer. Mickey snorted.

"But you haven't seen the boys in blue that those two hellcats turned away. I think the brunette sent one of them crying for his mother," he said.

That sounded like Eva. She was a feisty, sassy, sexy woman who kept Don on his toes. Was being the operative word.

"Sounds like my kinda woman," he remarked. The same woman who'd helped pull him out of the building after the bombing and had seen him at his bona-fide worst. He squeezed his eyes shut at the memory of Eva's lips brushing the scar on his abdomen and asking him if it hurt. Then he'd touch the burn on her arm from her abusive ex, Elliot. The bastard had attempted to brand her as his. "Get me another beer, would you, Mick?"

"You've always wanted what you couldn't have, Flack," Mickey said with a shake of his head.

* * *

_Please, stop looking at me, please, stop looking at me, _Eva chanted in her head. She snuck a glance up at the bar and forced herself to look away again. Don was staring at her again and he was trouble with a badge and blue eyes for them both. He had a way of getting right to her soul and she couldn't afford that. In her line of work, the FDNY didn't get along with the NYPD. Being a firefighter was a family tradition. The Santana family had firefighters going back three generations.

"He's gonna get you in deep shit with Henderson," Kylie whispered. She glanced up at the bar and away again. "But damn, he doesn't like being turned away, does he?"

Eva nodded, her gaze locking in on a blonde practically throwing herself on her Donnie.

_He's not your Donnie anymore, Eva, _she reminded herself. _You put your job before him._

"Come on, let's get out of here," Kylie suggested. Eva glanced over her shoulder and tossed back a shot one of the cops had bought for her, not knowing she was a firefighter. All she and her best friend looked like were a couple of women with a raging cop fetish. Sort of like Miss Blue-Eyed Blondie, she added sourly. "Fresh air will do you good."

She slid out of her tall chair and tottered a bit on the tall, skinny stilettos she wore.

"Good idea. Let's go grab some Friday's or something. I'm fucking starving," she declared. She hooked her arm in Kylie's and rested her head on the taller blonde's shoulder. "Am I that forgettable?" she asked in a small voice.

Kylie turned around and rolled her eyes. "Flack's just living up to his rep. If it walks with a wiggle, he'd bang it," she replied. "You shouldn't have gotten involved."

It wasn't an outright 'told you so', but it hung in the air. Eva could hear it, but she tried to ignore it.

"Some things just can't be helped, Ky," she sighed. The first thing she'd been attracted to when she first met Don was that dry wit which rivaled her own. It just sucked that there was bad blood between their families.

"I know, honey," Kylie assured her, gripping her bicep.


	2. Past: Enchante

_**A/N: Wow, what a response! I really wasn't expecting this! Thank you so much guys, for your amazing reviews! For reference on Eva Santana, I have Naya Rivera for her (I know she's really young, but I couldn't think of anyone better for the job!) and I did say this was gonna be a longer chapter, didn't I? This is a past chapter and takes place just before 'Charge of This Post'**_

_**Rain: I guess character development really is my strength, huh? I'm really glad I chose Naya!**_

_**Peaches: Here you go!**_

_**BJQ: Me, too!**_

_**Book: Hey, nice to meet you! I'm glad you like Eva and Don because I am way loving them right now. They've got that flirty dynamic that I'd really like to explore.**_

* * *

_Your eyes whispered "Have we met?"_

_Across the room, your silhouette makes its way to me_

_The playful conversation starts_

_Counter all your quick remarks like passing notes in secrecy_

_And it was enchanting to meet you_

Taylor Swift — Enchanted

* * *

The only way the police department and fire department could stomach being in the same room post-game were drinks at Reilly's, a cop bar. It was more of a slap in the face that they were drinking there than anything. Firefighter Eva Santana glanced around the bar for her friends and spotted Kylie sitting with Elliot.

"Eva!" Kylie called, waving to her. Eva leaned against the table, a smile on her face. "Big win for our boys, huh?" Kylie's green-hazel eyes twinkled with amusement and she snapped her fingers. She always had such a dynamic sense of style and proved it with her sinfully short black miniskirt and a sparkly green tank top. Her height was accentuated with a pair of strappy black high heels.

"Heard Curtis put up a tab for the team," Eva commented, looking around at the red and yellow jersey-clad firefighters laughing boisterously and the cops glaring enviously at them. "I guess the coppers are really gritting their teeth over this."

"As well they should. All they do is talk shit and they don't got the skills to back it up," Elliot declared, sliding a margarita over to her. Eva rolled her eyes and accepted the drink with a smile. There was a pool to see when Elliot would land 'the hot Latina' of the department.

When a few cops glared in their direction, she covered her mouth.

"Fuck a duck, Elliot, yell that a little louder, why don't you? I don't think they heard you up at the bar," she hissed. He winked one of his grey eyes at her before turning to face the guys up there.

"Damn straight, we beat your asses once. Messer ain't got game worth shit!" he called. Not long after that, a man with dirty-blonde hair and glasses sauntered up. Danny Messer. Eva had worked with him on a few arson cases back in the day and knew him fairly well.

"You got something to say to me, James?" he demanded. Eva slid away from the table, nervousness prickling her skin. She did not want to get in the middle of something like this. "You may have beaten us in the game, but I can still kick your ass like I did on the ice."

"Mess, don't get involved," someone warned behind him. He was tall, with coal-black hair and the prettiest pair of frost-blue eyes Eva had ever seen. He was blue-eyed soul personified. She traded glances with Kylie but one look at his badge made her heart sink. It was too bad he was a cop, really. He was definitely the type she would have liked to sink her claws into, even if just for the night. Their gazes locked and she felt a shiver roll down her spine that she hadn't felt before.

"Don't mind Elliot," Eva said instead, slipping between the two men. "He gets booze pumped into him and he tends to lose his big head."

Danny glanced from Eva to Elliot and shook his head. "Just make sure your boy don't get too excited about winning a game, alright, Santana? His mouth's gonna get him in trouble someday."

"It shouldn't take him too long," she quipped. She felt his hand squeeze tighter on her arm and she gave him a playful smirk. "At this rate, I'll be lucky if he doesn't deck the bartender."

"Sounds like someone else I know," Blue Eyes commented from his place behind Danny. Eva nudged Elliot affectionately and Kylie stepped on her foot, giving her a stern look. She was wordlessly telling her not to go there. When Danny and her friends wandered off, she was face-to-face with the handsome detective. "Sorry about that. Danny gets a little hotheaded."

"And all this time I thought that us firefighters were the ones who got hotheaded," she sallied back. He grinned crookedly at her and that shiver took her over again, this time it was inside and unnoticeable. She hoped so, at least.

"Must be those explosive tempers they warn us about," he said. A short laugh burst from her lips before she could stop it. She could tell by his cocky stance that this was his backwards way of trying to flirt. "I'm Don Flack."

Her stomach plummeted to her toes. Alejandro had warned her about cops period, never mind the Flack family. Every time her father came home in a tizzy, it was because Donald Flack Senior had pissed him off. This was his son.

"Eva Santana," she replied, shaking out her dark hair. It wasn't like they were going to say their vows; there was nothing wrong with a little flirting and it felt like ages since she'd received any male attention since Elliot did all but urinate on her to prove to everyone just to whom she belonged. "Also known to my enemies as Evil Satan."

"Ah, shit," he muttered. Eva cocked her head in innocent confusion. "Sorry, it's not you."

"My name, I know. Trust me, you're not the first person to get all deflated at who my father is," she assured him. She glanced at the free pool table and an arrogant smirk tugged at her lips. "Well, why don't the FDNY and NYPD have a little rematch? See if it's true that you guys are better at pool than hockey."

* * *

Don watched Eva lean against the table, those big brown eyes batting up at him. He was a little apprehensive about playing a woman in pool and he'd heard rumors about Eva Santana. She was trouble in high heels. His gaze raked appreciatively down her curvaceous frame, taking in that skin-tight white top and form-fitting blue jeans.

"What exactly do I get if I win? Your team has already beaten my ass once," he said. God, it sucked that this woman was a firefighter. With the humiliation in earlier's defeat, getting a beautiful woman in bed would have taken the edge off. Especially one as feisty as Eva. He'd always been a sucker for women like that. All that dark hair, that smooth olive skin, and those massive eyes with those lips...she was trouble personified.

"Well, you get to tell all your little cop buddies you kicked a firefighter's ass in pool. Or if you think of something else, let me know," she replied.

_Firefighter, firefighter, firefighter, _he thought as a million dirty thoughts raced in his head.

"Sounds fair. What if you win?" he asked. Those full pink lips pulled into a smile.

"We'll see after I win," she responded cryptically, crossing her arms over her chest, drawing his eye down. "Which shouldn't be too bad."

He grinned at her. "Shall we then, Miss Santana?" he asked, gesturing to the pool table. She smirked at him and accepted his arm.

"I think I should warn you that I'm pretty good at pool," she commented. "And I will most likely kick your ass."

Don couldn't help but laugh at her arrogance, which clearly rivaled his own. "I'm pretty damn good at pool myself and I just might make you eat your words," he returned. He couldn't stop staring at her lips, either. They had those swollen, just-kissed look to them. She was a handful, for sure.

"Mm, we'll see," she purred, winking at him with one of those big brown eyes. She chalked up her cue and her hands. "Want me to break or are you gonna quit drooling and do it?"

He chuckled and slid the cue through his fingers, striking the cue ball. Unfortunately, he didn't pot a ball and he looked at his partner. "Not a word, Santana," he told her.

"What would I say? That my grandma could break better than that?" she asked innocently, batting those long eyelashes. "Does that even sound like me?"

"I don't know you very well, but I think I already know the answer to that," he responded. She grinned devilishly at him before leaning over the table to take her shot. The black eight ball shot into the pocket and she growled in frustration. "Pride before the fall, Eva."

"That's default. You wouldn't be so desperate to win that'd you count that," she stated.

"Playing with my ego? I think I like you," he commented boldly. She stuck her tongue out and he placed the eight ball close to where it was. "We'll count it as a win, but I get two things then." Oh, those two things...something told him she was wild and bold enough to accept just about any challenge he gave her.

"I can knock you down a couple of pegs if you'd like," she said. He took his shot and nailed the thirteen ball into a pocket. When he pocketed a few more balls, he felt her tap the end of his cue. "Oops."

"You wanted a turn, all you had to do was ask," he informed her. She snorted.

"I'd rather play dirty," she replied, that devilish sparkle in her eye returning. She leaned over the table and took her shot and wound up getting a few in. When she nearly knocked in the eight ball again, she sucked in a breath. "That was close."

"I'd rather beat you honorably, Santana," he assured her. Eva did have skills in pool, Don noticed. But when he got his last ball in the pocket, he grinned. He was better. "Now, for my two things..."

Her eyebrow arched and she crossed her arms over her chest again. "Fine. What exactly did you have in mind?" she asked.

"Stand on the chair, get everyone's attention and tell everyone you got your ass kicked in pool by someone from the NYPD," he replied, pulling a chair from a nearby table. He gripped her hand and helped her stand up on the seat.

"Excuse me, can I get everyone's attention, please?" Eva called, cupping her hands around her mouth. The chatter in the bar died down and Don watched her face redden in a blush. "I'm a firefighter that just got her ass kicked by a cop in pool."

* * *

Eva hopped down from the chair, looking up at him. "There. I said what you wanted me to say. What do you want now?" she asked. Don jerked his head toward the door and she followed him, her heels clicking on the brick tile of the floor of the bar. It was a real pity he was a cop, he was definitely her type. "What, you want me to pay for a cab home?"

"Not exactly. I collect my winning in there, neither of us would hear the end of it," he answered.

"Wow, I usually get dinner first," she remarked sarcastically. He smirked at her over his shoulder.

"Is that all it takes?" he joked. She rolled her eyes and glanced around outside. There were a few people littering outside, but they looked like they weren't paying much attention. Most of them were on their cellphones and waving for a cab. "Kidding."

The brick wall of the building outside met her back and she had a split second to react before his mouth attached to hers hungrily in a blood-boiling, heart-throbbing kiss. Man, Don Flack knew how to _kiss_. He knew how to tease her and make her return the kiss, to leave it to her to start the second one. She found herself nipping at his lip to keep the contact. Her toes curled in her shoes and she arched into him. The second his tongue traced her lower lip, she opened her mouth to accept him eagerly.

Her rational mind screamed at her to stop, demanding to know just what she was doing. If the guys at the firehouse caught wind of this, they'd never let her live it down. She'd be labeled a traitor forever.

But then he gripped her waist, tugging her closer to him. Sparks ignited in her bloodstream and she pulled him closer. God, it was like she was on drugs with how her body reacted to him. His kisses turned soft and gentle as he pecked her once, then twice on the lips. Those gorgeous eyes were darker with want and Eva found herself licking her lips.

"Sorry, I don't usually...do that," she apologized. Don's chuckle was low and throaty, sending shivers down her spine for the fifth time that night. The third and fourth had occurred when he had given her looks during the first round of pool. She hadn't been able to concentrate on her game for the first time in her life. Usually, she was on top of her witty remarks, but he left her speechless and wanting to jump him right then. And now he had her apologizing. They hadn't even met an hour ago, yet he sent shivers down her spine, engaging in a hot make-out session up against a brick wall, for fuck's sake, and now she was _apologizing. _Evangeline Simone Santana _never _apologized.

"Eva, there you are!" Kylie said, her voice breathless with relief. She walked over to her, a very drunk Elliot in tow. "Come on, I need help getting Elliot home."

Eva glanced at Don and nodded, smoothing the front of her white shirt. "Sure, I'll meet you at the curb," she told them. She looked at Don over her shoulder. "Well, now we can go back to departmental hatred."

He chuckled. "Fine by me," he replied. She wiggled her fingers in farewell over her shoulder.

"Nice meeting you, Flack," she commented. "Can't wait till the FDNY kicks the proverbial ass of the boys in blue."

"We'll see about that, Santana. Just let me know if you want a booty call," he remarked. She stiffened and he grinned crookedly. Chalk it up for sixth spine shiver.

Holy alliteration, Batman.

"We'll see who breaks first," she bantered back with a wink.


	3. Present: Hopelessly Devoted To You

_**A/N: By the way, Eva's pronounced with a long 'e' and not a short one. So when Don calls her 'Evie' it's pronounced like the Pokemon: "Eevee."**_

_**Rain: I'm way loving 'Flacktana' myself. It's a really nice change of pace and I love writing this!**_

_**Sweet: I was surprised at how easily they went together. Thanks so much for the sweet review!**_

_**CSI: Thanks C:**_

_**Somebody: Here you go!**_

* * *

_Guess mine's not the first heart-broken  
My eyes are not the first to cry  
I'm not the first to know there's just no getting over you_

_I know I'm just a fool who's willing to sit around and wait for you  
But baby, can't you see? There's nothing else for me to do  
I'm hopelessly devoted to you_

_But now, there's nowhere to hide since you pushed my love aside  
I'm out of my head hopelessly devoted to you  
Hopelessly devoted to you, hopelessly devoted to you_

_My head is saying "Fool, forget him"  
My heart is saying "Don't let go, hold on till the end"  
And that's what I intend to do, I'm hopelessly devoted to you_

Olivia Newton-John — Hopelessly Devoted To You

* * *

Eva loved her job most days. There weren't a lot of fires in New York City, just a lot of rescues. TV made it seem worse than it was. She slapped down more cards, her gaze locked on Kylie's. Slap Jack just gave them an excuse to slap each other's hands as hard as they could. The old radio Curtis kept in the break room played classic rock from the speakers.

"Hey, Santana, you got a visitor!" Jack called from the lower level of the firehouse. Eva looked around the break room to see if Marco was around. She was the Santana with the visitor.

"Fix your tank top. Your tramp stamp's showing," Kylie commented as she shuffled the playing cards. Eva fixed her black tank top over her stomach and turned around to see if her Roman Catholic cross peeked out from the waistband of her jeans. She regretted picking the shirt to wear to work; it constantly rode up when she sat down. "You're good. By the way, ask Jack when lunch is gonna be ready. I'm ready to eat up his famous Firehouse Chili. This rain's killing me."

Eva gripped the steel pole that separated the levels and slid down, landing with a grunt on the cement floor. She looked around for the older lieutenant. "Hey, Jack, who's my visitor?" she called, making her way into the kitchen. What she didn't expect was to see Don Flack leaning against the counter. "Hey."

"What makes you think I'm your visitor? What if I just like whatever the hell is in that pot?" he stated. Eva rolled her eyes and lifted the chrome lid to the massive pot to inhale the spicy fumes of the soup.

"Because I'm the only one besides Kylie and Jack that you can stand," she responded. She picked up the silver ladle and stirred the mixture, tapping it on the rim of the dish before setting it back down. "Why are you here, Don?"

She tried not to look up and see those blue eyes on her, but man, could she feel them. Usually she loved the sound of the rain, but she wished for sun right at that moment. He wore his sunglasses inside and she could use the blockage.

"I had a few questions for you. We found a firefighter dead at a scene today and you might know him," he said. Eva's head snapped up to face him before she could stop. Don held up a picture of a man with medium brown hair, deathly pale skin, with his eyes closed, and his lips tinged blue. "Do you know him, Eva?"

Eva bit her lip and examined it closely. He didn't look terribly familiar, but she wasn't sure. "I dunno, maybe. I see a lot of firefighters pass through. Names aren't really something I stick with. Kylie might know him," she replied. She looked around the empty kitchen to look for Jack. "What's his name?"

"James Morgan," he told her. Looking at the picture, she recognized him. "Do you recognize him now?"

"That's Jack's son. Yeah, I remember him now, but I haven't seen him in months. Last I heard, he worked out in Brooklyn with the department there," she whispered. Her hand flew to her mouth and her eyes squeezed shut. "Oh, God, poor Jack. James was his only son."

"Can you think of anyone who might wanna hurt him?" Don asked. Eva opened her eyes and sniffled, brushing a stray tear away.

"Like I said, I hadn't seen him in months. He looked like he stepped outta Wayne's World last time I saw him. Mullet, ripped jeans, Alice Cooper band T-shirt...nice guy, though," she answered. "I wish I could be more help."

"When was the last time you saw Elliot, Eva?" came his quiet question. The name of her abusive ex-boyfriend still made her spine crawl.

"Not since you locked him up," she answered. She crossed her arms across her chest and stared at the worn sandstone tile of the floor in the kitchen. Her fingers instinctively touched the burn on her arm and he touched her shoulder.

"We found his fingerprints on some of James's stuff and your name in his Internet history," he told her. Eva finally met his blue eyes and the good kind of shiver ran down her spine. "He's been trying to find you and I think James knew where to find you."

Jack was Eva's godfather. When Alejandro died, Jack stepped up as a sort of surrogate father to herself, Marco, Carmen, and Junior.

"He knew to find James because Jack talked to him. Jack's the link to me, Marco, Carmen, and Junior," she murmured. This was real.

"I have to back off the case if you're involved, Evie." His nickname for her slipped off his tongue so easily. No one else could get away with calling her that.

"And anything about us will come to light if Elliot killed James. He'll tell everyone he caught us together and you're gonna get shit brought down on you again because of me," she said. He'd broken it off when she'd broached the subject of coming out as a couple. If his enemies found out about her, he'd been worried she couldn't handle herself. The NYPD hated the FDNY. When the two worked cases, there was barely concealed disdain between the other.

"Then they'll back off because there's nothing between us anymore," he pointed out.

Eva bit her lip, biting back her words. It wasn't true on her side. Don had coaxed her from Elliot, out of an abusive situation where she hadn't been sure she could be whole again. There would always be that between them.

"Vee..." he murmured, his fingers brushing her cheekbone. Wetness glistened on the tips of his fingers and she realized she was crying.

"I think you should go, Donnie," she whispered. Outside of his family, he only allowed her to call him that. Eva turned on her heel and retreated from the kitchen. She ran up the stairs to the break room to see Kylie curled up on the couch with a book. Her green-hazel eyes lifted from the pages and she took off her reading glasses.

"Eva, what happened?" she asked, standing up. Eva walked over to her best friend and curled up next to her.

"Can you just not say I told you so?" she whimpered.

* * *

Don knew what he had to do. He squared his broad shoulders back as he walked down the hall of the lab. The sight of Eva's heartbroken expression haunted him and he kicked himself for it. Elliot had spent the entire relationship basically telling her she was worthless and Don made it seem like he didn't want her.

"I need to talk to you about something," he told the older man. Mac gestured for him to close the door and Don took his seat in the chair by the desk.

"What's on your mind, Flack?" he inquired. Don scratched his head vigorously, working his hands through his unkempt black hair. Seeing Eva threw him for a much harder loop than he thought. If Elliot wanted Eva like the evidence suggested, Don needed to back off before he tracked the bastard down and beat the shit out of him.

"I'm too close to this case, Mac," he admitted. When Mac didn't say anything, Don decided to continue. "I met Eva after the last FDNY/NYPD hockey game at Reilly's. It started out as just innocent fun, playing pool, fooling around. I bumped into her again and it sorta took off from there. We stayed friends while she dated Elliot James until I found out he was abusing her. And then when I got her away from him..."

He knew Mac would piece the rest of it together.

"And you think Elliot James is going to use Eva to get back at you for taking away his girlfriend," Mac said. Don nodded.

"I saw her at Reilly's the other night and I went to the firehouse to see James Morgan's dad, who's a close friend of the family. She was there," he replied. He decided to leave out the part where he had Jack call her down. "I'm worried about her, Mac. He tried to brand her as his, he had this sort of sick hold on her. You didn't see that...that look." Don remembered the empty look in her usually bright brown eyes as if it were staring at him right then.

"You did the right thing getting Eva out of there, Don, and you're doing the right thing by backing off. Until we get a better understanding of the case, it might be best you don't have any contact with her. She's a grown woman and she's got options," Mac advised.

"I know she's got options, Mac, but he's got this sick hold on her. I broke things off with her when she brought up telling people about us. I got scared because the thought of someone coming after her...I thought the best thing for her was for me to not be there," Don replied. It was one of the dumbest decisions he ever made. Eva was tough to a point. When it came to the abuse, she tended to fold. If Elliot threatened anyone she loved, she would comply.

* * *

Eva used to love listening to her Grease soundtrack, but it was killing her at the moment. Olivia Newton-John's lament on John Travolta kicking her to the curb hit a little too close to home. When she got home to her apartment in Lower Manhattan, she spotted a familiar Buick sitting out front. She slammed the door to her truck and crossed the street.

"Isn't stalking illegal, Don?" she snapped, tapping on the driver window. He rolled it down, looking up at her from his dark aviators. She spotted a toothpick sticking out of the left side of his mouth and he pulled it out with a sigh.

"I've got orders from my lieu to sit on this location to keep my eye out for any suspicious activity," he informed her coolly. Don pushed the glasses back up to shroud his blue eyes. "That ain't gonna be a problem for you, is it, ma'am?"

His cop talk usually made her smile and she knew that was what he was going for.

"Not at all. Carry on, officer," she retorted icily. She was halfway to the door of her apartment and tried to ignore him calling after her.

Until he said her full name.

"Evangeline Simone Santana, get back here right now so we can talk like adults! You're acting like a damned child!" She turned around to see him standing outside the car, staring her down.

"You cannot full-name me, Donald Joseph Flack Junior. And I'm acting like a damned child? Hey, pot, meet kettle! You're not my father and I didn't ask you to sit on this location for any suspicious activity. I've got eyes of my own and I can take care of myself!" she lashed out. She stormed toward her apartment, but her foot hit a raised crack in the sidewalk and she fell forward. Her palms and knees scraped the pavement and she let out a curse in Spanish.

Why couldn't today go right? Hot tears blurred her eyes and she shoved him away when he tried to help her back up.

"You're bleeding, Evie," he murmured in her ear. The heels of her palms were scratched and stinging, blood beading on the scratched skin.

She could tell by the way she could feel the wind on her knee that her jeans were ripped as well. He helped her limp into her apartment and she tried not to enjoy how good his arms felt around her.

* * *

"Ow," she winced when he poured a bit of peroxide on the slashes on her hands. The cuts turned white as it bubbled to the surface and she squeezed her eyes shut, hissing in pain as it lanced through her sensitive skin. "Fuck!"

"Relax," Don chuckled. He held her hands under the hot water and her body relaxed. "You still have a low threshold for pain."

"My pride hurts more than anything," Eva mumbled. His fingers trailed over the rash on her hands and those gorgeous brown eyes fluttered open. "You don't have to make a big fuss over me, you know. I can take care of myself."

It was hard to believe that this time a couple of months ago, they were together.

"I know, but it was technically my fault you tripped," he commented. He looked at her knee, holding the crook of it in his hand to inspect it. "I hope those weren't your favorite pair of jeans."

"They weren't. Now Kylie has a prayer of borrowing them, at least," she replied. She poked the rip wistfully. "I'll go get on some sweats or something and I'll take care of my knee."

"Evie." His nickname from her made her stop. Her petite body stood rigid for a moment before her shoulders slumped forward. Don could see her cross tattoo on the small of her back from her stance and the little bow tattooed on the back of her neck.

"You can't call me that. I'm not your Evie anymore," Eva reminded him. She disappeared for a moment and he declined against the counter, gripping it tightly. He could count his blessings, though. At least her hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail. If it was down...he wouldn't be able to contain himself.

"I'm sorry if I offended you by calling you that," he called. There was a rustle of fabric and she padded out, wearing a pair of heather gray shorts. He forced himself not to look at her long, lean legs sticking out.

"You didn't offend me. I'm just really stressed out at the moment and I can't handle..." she trailed off, gesturing wildly with her hands. She walked past him, took the bottle of peroxide, and hopped on the counter. Don took a few cotton balls out of the bathroom and saw her sitting petulantly with her arms folded. "Can we get this over with? My mother's stopping by and I'd really like to not have to explain you to her."

He dripped the peroxide on the scrape and she hissed again.

"You did that on purpose!" she accused him. He set the bottle on the white counter-top, leaning on his hands to stare up at her.

"Yes, Eva, I did put peroxide on your scrape to help you. I did it on purpose because maybe I'm trying to help you," he informed her.

"You've done enough!" Eva shot back. She slapped his arm when he laughed. "Don't laugh at me!"

"Sorry," he apologized as he pulled a short-bladed knife out of the drawer, holding them up. "Should I just cut your leg off instead to save you from scraping it in the future?"

To his surprise, she laughed.

"With a paring knife? That's the dullest knife in the world," she snorted. Don slid them back in the drawer and pulled out her roll of gauze. "Don't mummify me."

"Mum's the word," he returned. Eva giggled again and shook her head.

"You're so corny," she declared.

"I'm corny and you're stubborn. Quite a couple we were, eh?" he commented. She rolled her eyes and hopped down when he taped the gauze to her knee.

"Hey, Donnie?" she said.

"You can't call me that," he quoted her.

"Tough shit. I was gonna say thanks for helping me out, but never mind now," she told him.


	4. Past: Love Doesn't Hurt

_**A/N: I keep feeling this chemistry sizzle between Don and Eva...I don't even know what it is about them. Warning, this is a very dark chapter. Has an abuse trigger warning.**_

_**Somebody: Just look up Naya Rivera tattoos and her lower back tattoo should be on there C: and yes, I think you'll like the ones from their dating days.**_

_**Sweet: Elliot is going to be a problem, I'll tell you that now. And I love writing their banter, it comes so natural. **_

_**Rain: It's gonna be a long road, though.**_

* * *

_I lose my way and it's not too long before you point it out  
I cannot cry because I know that's weakness in your eyes  
I'm forced to fake a smile, a laugh every day of my life  
My heart can't possibly break when it wasn't even whole to start with_

_Because of you, I never stray too far from the sidewalk  
Because of you, I learned to play on the safe side so I don't get hurt  
Because of you, I find it hard just to forget everything  
Because of you, I don't know how to let anyone else in  
Because of you, I'm ashamed of my life because it's empty  
Because of you, I am afraid_

Kelly Clarkson — Because of You

* * *

There were so many things about her life that Eva had never expected. One was lying to her friends and the other was allowing herself to get subjected to abuse. The running joke of the station was that they never had to worry about her being in an abusive relationship.

"If anyone ever hit Eva Santana, she'd hit back!" Jack would declare.

What they didn't know was that under Elliot's nice-guy exterior was a monster. His father abused him and his mother growing up and instead of taking a stand against the abuser, he continued the cycle. It wasn't just a family tradition; Elliot waited until Eva invested herself in him before the verbal abuse had started.

Eva gripped the counter to pull herself up so she stood up straight. Her body ached and she just wanted to rest. Elliot's bad day at work was her fault, according to him. She finally made her way into the living room and collapsed in a heap on her red suede couch. Her body relaxed under its plush cushioning, her eyes fluttering closed.

She woke up to the sound of her phone chiming next to her and she snatched it up. A number she didn't recognize flashed on the screen and she flipped it open.

"Hello?" she said groggy. Eva pushed herself up to a sitting position, her head throbbing in pain. She gripped it, squeezing it hard in trying to soothe it.

_"Eva, this is Detective Flack. I was at the fire site today," _a husky male voice made her bolt upright. That was right. He had asked her a few questions about what she noticed about the fire.

"Oh, hey," she said hesitantly. Her eyes flicked to the door where she expected Elliot to walk through any moment. "What can I do for you?"

_"Is this a bad time?" _he asked. Eva ran her hand through her hair, smoothing it out of her face.

"It's as good a time as any," she replied. She sat Indian-style on her couch, exhaling through her nose.

_"Have you seen Chris anywhere around lately?" _ he asked. She's quiet for a moment as she thinks through — not a good idea with a massive headache, mind you — the question. Eva knew she had seen Chris Flack recently, but she couldn't, for the life of her, remember. Her brother Marco would be a better option to call.

"Within the past couple weeks, no, I haven't. My brother's the one to talk to; I know they're pretty close. Marco Santana, he works at the firehouse in Flushing," she told him.

Then she saw her boyfriend standing in the doorway of the living room, bare-chested with a mottled grey towel wrapped around his waist. He looked downright pissed at her.

"Who are you talking to?" he demanded. Eva looked up in surprise.

"Chris Flack's brother. He wants to know if I've seen him recently. Have you?" she inquired. He shook his head.

"Hang up the phone," he ordered. She knew the consequences for her actions if she didn't do it.

"I'll call my brother and get back to you later, Detective. Is that okay?" she said. Elliot's eyes tightened in anger, his jaw tightening.

Flack sighed over the line. _"Let me know, okay? This isn't like him."_

"I know," she replied and hung up the phone. Elliot stormed over to her, gripping her jaw in his hand. Eva could feel his blunt nails digging into her jaw, the pain licking her skin as he forced her to look at him. "What was I supposed to do, Ell? He's got a right to ask me about his brother." Talking was difficult with her mouth gripped shut.

"How the fuck did he get your number?" he demanded.

"You're hurting me," she said, wrenching her face from his hand. He backhanded her across the face and she tasted blood in her mouth. She touched her stinging cheek in shock as she stared up at him in horror. Gone was the man she thought she had known so well.

He was a monster.

* * *

Don remembered Eva's address from when he had come to collect his less-than-desirable younger brother from her living room a while back. He reached out and knocked on the white wooden door.

"Hey, Eva?" he called. After hearing an argument after she had clearly thought she'd hung up her phone, he had heard the sound of a slap. He didn't know who unleashed it, from the sound of little noises that followed, he knew it wasn't Eva. Then he heard a scream on the other line and he knew he needed to get over there. The door was ajar and he nudged it open with the toe of his shoe. He poked his head to see capsized furniture. "Eva?"

A soft moan from by the wooden coffee-table alerted and he bent down next to her. Her wild dark hair shrouded her admittedly beautiful face and he brushed away to feel for her pulse. Strong. Then his gaze fell on the ugly bruise that marred her cheekbone and a bump on her temple. It looked painful.

"It's me, Don. Do you want me to call someone to come get you? Who did this to you?" he asked when she stirred beneath him and attempted to lift her head. Her coffee-colored eyes fluttered open and she looked up at him. Her features twisted into horror and panic and she scrambled to a sitting position and let out a gasp, clutching her head. "You might have a slight concussion. Is there anyone I can call to come help you?"

"Is he gone?" was the first thing she asked. Don furrowed his brow and watched her lick her lips. Eva's petite body trembled, her shoulders hunched forward. Her dark hair fell in her face and she covered her face with her hands. "God, I'm so embarrassed."

"Can you tell me who did this to you?" he asked again. She sniffled and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. This didn't look like the feisty, strong-willed woman he had met at Reilly's. Don felt a surge of protectiveness go through him and he looked around for his phone. "I'm going to call an ambulance to come and take you to the hospital to get that bump on your head checked out, alright?"

When he pulled out his phone, her tiny hand rested on his arm to lower it. "Please, don't," she begged. "It'll only make it worse."

"Someone hit you. I can't force you to make a report, but I'm a witness. If you want to press charges, he can't go near you," he said gently. Glassy brown eyes stared back at him and another tear slid down her pretty face. "If you want me to help you, you're gonna have to make a choice."

She whispered a name so low, he had to strain to hear her.

"Call Kylie Morris," she breathed. He looked around for her phone. It stuck out between the cushions and he opened it up, scanning for a name.

'Kylie.'

It rang twice before a breathless voice came on.

_"Eva, are you okay? The phone just cut off and you never called me back! I was about to call the fucking police!" _a woman chided. Don chuckled.

"Miss Morris? It's me, Detective Flack. I'm Chris's brother," he said.

_"Is Eva okay? What's going on?" _Kylie demanded. There was a rustle of a chair being moved across the floor.

"She needs to go to the hospital. Can you come and meet us there?" he asked.

_"Is she okay? Detective Flack, just give it to me straight," _she told him. Don looked over at Eva, who sniffled again.

"She's a little shaken up, but I think she just wants you there," he explained. He extended her arm to see a burn pattern on her skin that looked painful. Don held up a finger and stood up to walk into the small kitchen to find a dishcloth to put on the burn before it scarred. To hell with evidence at that point. "We'll be leaving in about fifteen minutes."

_"I'll meet you there. Thanks for calling me," _Kylie replied. Don ended the phone call and snapped the phone shut.

"That burn looks nasty," he commented. Eva struggled to her feet and wiped her eyes. "Don't walk yet. Sit down and I'll help you."

"I bet you see this a lot in your line of work," she spoke for the first time out loud. "I'm not filing a report."

He pulled himself to his full height. "Look, your personal life is none of my business, Eva," he started to say. "And I'm the last person who can tell you how to run it."

"You're right," she responded. Whoever this elusive abuser was, he obviously thought there was more to him and Eva than there was.

"Just answer this question. Is this the first time he's done this?" Don asked, glancing over his shoulder. He wanted to prolong the rinsing out of the rag to get answers.

"No," Eva answered. "But he always apologizes after he does it." Classic abusive behavior. Don had seen it too many times to count.

"And let me guess, if you had only been a better girlfriend and didn't make him snap, he wouldn't do it?" he queried. He shouldn't prod the matter too much because it was ultimately her decision. If Don had it his way, whoever was responsible would be in jail with charges stacked against him. "Eva, you don't deserve it. No matter what he says, him abusing you isn't your fault."

"He loves me, though," she said quietly. That was the line he had heard so many times he couldn't begin to count them.

"Love doesn't hurt."

* * *

Eva stared out the window of her hospital room, focusing on the Manhattan skyline and not the uncomfortable pull of stitches or the dull throb of her bruises. Don's words from earlier echoed in her mind repetitively.

_"Love doesn't hurt." _

She knew that, but she kept going back to Elliot. Eva saw the best in him, even if no one else did.

That was why she decided to file the report. She didn't want to talk about it to her friends out of shame and they had respected it for the most part.

"How are you feeling?" a man asked from the doorway. Eva looked over and locked gazes with Don. She quickly broke the contact, feeling a blush creep on her cheeks.

"Hi," she murmured. She balled her fists in the white sheets and closed her eyes tightly.

"No one blames you for this, Eva," he told her. She exhaled sharply through her nose, the stench of antiseptic stinging her senses. There was a creak as he sat down on the foot of the bed and she looked up to see him. "Alright?"

"I just ruined his life," she murmured. While she was sitting bloodied up in a hospital bed, Elliot James's career as a firefighter was over.

"_He _ruined his life, not you. What you did was save your own," he replied.


	5. Present: Falling For You Again

_**A/N: Another past chapter, but it's...fluffy? What is this, Thorne? O: Fluff so soon? I'm also posting this before I leave for a few days where I will not have a computer to write on...**_

_**The answer is: yes**_

_**And some smut. There is also smut this chapter ;D I feel as if I've tortured you enough with the heavy...this song is also perfect for Don and Eva...definitely give it a listen.**_

_**Somebody: I know :C But this is a good one C:**_

_**Sweet: I agree with you. It is Elliot's fault that he's doing this, but a lot of women blame themselves for their abuser's behavior. They need to be shown that they can be loved again and that it's really not their fault at all. Glad you enjoyed the chapter C:**_

* * *

_The best thing about tonight's that we're not fighting  
Could it be that we have been this way before?  
I know you don't think that I am trying  
I know you're wearing thin down to your core  
But hold your breath_

_Because tonight will be the night that I will fall for you over again  
Don't make me change my mind  
Or I won't live to see another day, I swear it's true  
Because a girl like you is impossible to find  
You're impossible to find_

_This is not what I intended  
I always swore to you I'd never fall apart  
You always thought that I was stronger  
I may have failed, but I have loved you from the start  
Oh, but hold your breath_

_Because tonight will be the night that I will fall for you over again  
Don't make me change my mind  
Or I won't live to see another day, I swear it's true  
Because a girl like you is impossible to find  
It's impossible_

_So breathe in so deep, breathe me in  
I'm yours to keep, but hold on to your words  
'Cause talk is cheap  
And remember me tonight when you're asleep_

Secondhand Serenade — Fall For You

* * *

Don Flack was in hell. A month after going to the damn firehouse and staking out Eva's apartment, he found himself faced with her once again. In a city that contained over fourteen million people, he kept running into the one woman he kept trying to forget.

God, she looked absolutely stunning. She wore a deep red halter-neck dress that flared out at her narrow hips and ended at her knees. The deep 'V' of the neckline cut low and the back hit the middle of her back and the pair of matching stilettos made him pant.

From the look in her date's eyes, Don wasn't alone. He hated the thought of another man putting his hands on Eva, to see what he'd seen, to touch what he had touched, or taste what he had tasted, and to hear her cry his name. Thank God she had her hair pinned up in a loose, sexy up-do. If it had been down, he would have lost it.

He would have drawn her away, but Sinclair's words rang in his head.

_"Stay away from that girl. The last thing we need is the defense breathing down our necks because one of our detectives couldn't keep it in his pants."_

But Don couldn't stop thinking about her. It just seemed like coincidence that he was at the same Mexican restaurant as she was, except he was there to have dinner with his brother Chris and Eva was there with some Latino stud that looked oddly familiar. And it seemed oddly cliché that her date would bring her to a Mexican restaurant.

"I wondered when she would quit turning down Cruz. That boy's been following her around for the past eight months. He used to walk the beat near the firehouse and put Jagger moves on her ever since. Can't say I blame him, either. Eva Santana's seriously _hot_," Chris remarked.

Wait, the tool that couldn't figure out the difference between a .48 and a .50 caliber was Eva's date of the evening? He could barely figure out how to work a siren on a damn police car.

"I'll be back," Don told him and stood up.

* * *

Eva felt an incredible amount of relief when Nicky got up and left the table to use the bathroom. She ran a hand through her hair and stared at the wall in front of her.

How could anyone be so frightfully _dull_? He was the worst conversationalist she ever came across and only talked about himself and his cat. It was exhausting. When the food arrived, she hoped to get in a word edgewise.

Nope. He talked with food in his mouth, picked food off _her _plate, and droned on and on. Thank God the atmosphere at Mexico Linda had mood lighting and what little she had eaten was delicious.

"What a bore that guy was, am I right?" a deep voice came from behind her. Eva turned around in her seat to see Don standing there, looking as devastatingly handsome as he always did. It wasn't fair. "Nice dress."

"Don't be rude," she chided. His blue eyes twinkled with amusement and she forced herself to look away. "He's not that bad."

She had known Nicky Cruz since she was a little girl. Even then, he had been so incredibly boring.

"I could see your eyes glazing over from _behind _you. You practically fell asleep at the table. I felt bored _for _you," he stated. The sky-blue tint of his dress shirt made his eyes stand out. "And plus, I work with Cruz. The guy could bore a nun to tears."

Eva felt a small flicker of a smile tug at her lips, her nose wrinkling slightly. "Is it bad that this is probably the best conversation I've had all night?" she asked. She accepted his outstretched hand and stood up.

"Not at all. I think your chair would have been a better partner in conversation," he responded with a wink. She smiled and dropped her hand from his.

"Oh, my hero," she teased. She followed him out, the warm city air greeting her skin in a whoosh. "Wait up!"

He smirked down at her and she felt his hand on her lower back, tugging her closer to him.

"And when I said nice dress, I mean it as a suggestion that you should wear dresses like that more often," he commented.

"Could you just imagine me going to a site in this dress?" she said with a giggle. It was something she really couldn't help or explain. Don always made her feel good and could always change her mood. "Or in heels."

"Oh, absolutely," he snorted. She laughed again, covering her mouth with her hand to stifle her giggles. Eva laughed more in the span of five minutes than she had all night. "I can just picture you in a helmet, gas mask, and an oxygen tank with a hose in that dress. Totally hot."

Another peal of giggles escaped her lips. "You did not just make a pun about my job," she accused. His fingers dipped down to touch her hip and pulled her closer to him. "Then again, I always did like it when you went all bad cop on me." She nudged him playfully, looking up at him. To her immense surprise, his face began to turn red. A million dirty thoughts began to race through her mind and she pulled away. "Look, I appreciate you getting me out of there, but we can't keep doing this, Don. We both know I need to fall out of love with you and it would be great if you would just let me try."

With that, she walked quickly past him and realized with a jolt that she lived in the other direction. Hot tears pricked her eyes and she knew she couldn't cry in front of him. If she did that, she wouldn't be able to stop. And then he would feel guilty and they would wind up either arguing or remind each other of just why they broke up. Not only because of their conflicting jobs, but that they were both passionate people incapable of anything but arguing or not being able to keep their hands to themselves.

"Eva," she heard him call. She squeezed her eyes shut and turned on her heel, even though she knew she would regret it.

Within a few seconds, his hot, greedy mouth was on hers in a sizzling kiss.

* * *

Don knew what they were doing was wrong, but it felt so, so right. Eva's lips were an addiction, an unhealthy drug that sparked live wires in his blood. Warm, soft, full and fit to his perfectly. Her hands roved across his bare chest, sliding low to find his belt. He missed those talented, gifted hands. He missed the lustful gleam in those gorgeous dark eyes, the way she bit her lip and the bite of her nails on his scalp or on his skin. He missed the feel of her strong thighs on his hips when he thrust in and out of her and her breasts pillowed against his chest, the way her hair always tickled his face when she bent her head down to kiss him with those soft lips.

He missed that sweet smile and her musical giggle. The way that she never made him feel like a failure.

Most of all, Don missed her unconditional and unrequited love. He missed that look in her eyes that made him feel like a hero. The girlfriend before her had demanded perfection and tried to keep up a perfect image of her own. Eva wasn't perfect, didn't try, and didn't expect it from him. She didn't expect him to expect perfection from her.

Her lips found that sweet spot on the hollow of his throat and her teeth nibbled on the little spot before sweeping her tongue over the bite and sucking on it. He coaxed her chin up and kissed her hungrily. His fingers found the tie that held the neck of the dress together and untied it, slipping behind her to find the zipper. He drew it down and she pulled away.

As he secretly hoped, she wasn't wearing a bra. Don tugged the dress down to expose the tiny scrap of black lace she wore to cover up her most intimate area. Instead of going straight for the panties, he bent down to take one pert nipple into the confines of his mouth. Eva moaned under him, her chest arching up. He twirled the tip of his tongue around the bud, taking it in his teeth and sucking hard. God, he could get off on just the noises she made, the way she gasped, moaned, and panted. Her fingers wound in his hair and he could feel her heart pounding under his lips. He switched to the other breast and kneaded the breast he had just lavished attention upon. His free hand trailed down her toned stomach and cupped between her legs. She whimpered and arched into him again. Her skin was warm and soft, her body so responsive and pliant to his touch.

Then Eva moaned his name. He knew she had slept with other men since him, but had she ever cried out their names with equal abandon? Were they skilled enough to arouse her with barely even touching her?

His thumb circled her most sensitive bundle of nerves through the lacy fabric, his teeth nibbling on each inch of her breast.

Her arm wrapped around his neck, her leg hitching around his hip. Don felt himself being gently rolled on his back and felt her sit back on his hips, grinding down on his erection. He groaned under the incredible, yet torturous feeling when she ran her blunt nails down his exposed chest.

God, she was beautiful. Her hair hung in her face, her lips swelled from the heat of his kisses, her dark eyes lidded with want. She was now completely naked under his hungry gaze, but she didn't even seem shy. It was his favorite view.

"You got protection?" she asked, her voice husky. Don sat up and searched through his nightstand drawer for that little foil packet he kept in there. He closed it between his fingers and handed it to her. Eva knew how to apply it in a way that he looked forward to it. She pulled down his boxers to free his aching erection. He literally ached for her, the sweet, intimate torture that came with her every time they made love. The way she writhed above him, the way her hips came down on his, the feel of her powerful thighs clenching his thrusting hips.

He sat up to help her slide the condom down his length before he helped her wrap her lithe legs around his waist, her ankles locked on the small of his back. The head of his member brushed her moist core and she whimpered before he thrust his hips forward and entered her wanton body. Their lips crashed together in a searing, blood-boiling kiss.

Hands couldn't touch enough skin, tongues couldn't stop dueling for dominance, their bodies couldn't touch enough. He couldn't get enough, from the very first kiss. Her inner muscles clenched around him, gripping him like a velvet glove. He tangled his fingers in her dark hair, his tongue tracing the line of the roof of her mouth, something that drove her completely insane. Her name exploded from his mouth between kisses, his name crying from hers.

With one last arch of her hips, he felt her explode around him. His orgasm had begun as a tingle in his lower back until it washed over him.

He could feel her hot breath on his skin as she tucked her head against the crook of his neck as she panted to catch her breath.

"That shouldn't have happened, but damn, did it feel good," she mused. Don kissed the crook of her shoulder, right where it met her neck and laid down, his arms around her body. "Are you gonna stay or are you gonna go?"

Looking into Eva's pleading brown eyes, he knew he should say no.

But for the night, if he wanted to live in ignorant bliss, he was going to sleep with her. She was destined to be the death of him...but what a way to go.


End file.
